


Shelter Me

by Shatterpath



Series: Nanowrimo Ficlet Collection 2018 [6]
Category: Supergirl (TV 2015)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, BAMF Angie Martinelli, F/F, First Kiss, POV First Person, Protective Kara Danvers, Shy Kara Danvers, Tumblr Prompt, Umbrellas
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-06
Updated: 2018-11-07
Packaged: 2019-08-19 20:49:21
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,828
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16541975
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Shatterpath/pseuds/Shatterpath
Summary: Angie's not really sure how she feels about Supergirl. Or does she?A storm brings out some very important truths.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Takes place on 4/19, a week before 'A Little Pickup'.
> 
> So, this takes place within the larger tale in the continuing saga that is The Pyramid Verse. While the list of prompts are technically an OTP thing, I'm not going to turn away a great idea and a willing muse! Besides, Alex and Lena make an important cameo! :D 
> 
> Chapter 1 is from Tadhgan31: Under an umbrella. Catching person a in the rain and running to share. Then realizing how close you are and how it's not awkward. Its cozy and safe. The dry one offering their coat to warm up in when they get out of the rain. (Featuring kara and angie)
> 
> Chapter 2 is from Panyan: First Kiss.
> 
> PS: Yes, I stole Angie Martinelli from Agent Carter and rebooted her here because I LOVE ANGIE. She has been flitting in and out of Pyramid --along with Peggy the dog-- for some time and deserved some love, so here we go!

Kara has been acting weird lately. And I think I know why. It's adorable really, but I'm not going to let her off the hook. If she wants me, she's going to have to actually ask.

Even if I'm tempted, so very tempted, to just give in.

After all, it's not like I've made any attempt whatsoever to deny that I'm attracted to the adorable, awkward woman!

It's a particularly gorgeous day today, mid-April giving us a preview of the more pleasant, cooler days of summer. Though those clouds over the ocean look more like the spring weather I left behind with the Atlantic Ocean…

Even in the shade of the big sunbrella over our table can't dim the brightness of Kara's blue eyes, bright as sunlight. She's joined me nearly every day for lunch for what, like two weeks now? I hadn't see as much of her and the rest of the oddball Scooby Gang from Christmas for several months, but with Maggie taking such great care of Peggy on the regular, I saw them off and on. Maggie calling me a couple weeks ago to see if I wanted to hang out for her niece's building party and getting my hands dirty had been a blessing. I love my job in that it pays well and I meet some interesting people, but wrangling persnickety, demanding clients tests my damn patience. Wielding a hammer and circular saw had been therapeutic as hell.

And it brought the adorable Kara Danvers back into my orbit.

She's an oddball, that one, but I like it. Normal is boring and I get enough of the jaded and annoying on the regular with my job. Kara's puppyish enthusiasm and good nature are like air. The gravity behind the sunshine? It only makes me more curious about her.

Currently, she is in full fired-up ramble mode over the up and coming political adversaries of President Marsden and how anyone who isn't old, white, Republican and male should be gearing up for battle. As I've noticed before, somehow she's a cross between a growling dire wolf and a retriever puppy chasing butterflies.

"She should just sic Supergirl on them," I tease and throw a few cartoon punches and terrible sound effects. However, I didn't expect to see Kara look so taken aback and sigh. "Sorry. I know you have a soft spot, reporter girl. I just… How do I even talk about this?"

How indeed.

"It's just, I have mixed feelings, y'know?"

Kara is quiet and still as a hunted mouse now, laser focused and those pretty eyes wide. "M--mixed feelings?"

Well it's out there now, Martinelli. No taking it back. Sighing again, I slouch down and rub my forehead before my natural Italian inclination to talk wildly with my hands takes over.

"So, my cousin Joey was caught in one of those knockout-dragouts about a year ago. Crushed his mechanic shop like it was an egg under a cinderblock."

Kara's eyes widen and she honest-to-Abe raises her hands to her mouth, the cute thing.

"Oh, he survived, but he's never been the same. And Joey wasn't the most personable or upstanding guy before and now? Well, there's a reason I suffer long hours to pay for my matchbox apartment instead of living in my aunt and uncle's nice pad for free."

Rather than look even a little reassured, Kara actually looks more horrified. Confused, but wanting to reassure her, I reach out to put a hand on her arm.

"It's okay Kara, shit happens…"

And she leaps away like she's been scalded.

Now, I've gotten gotta sorta used to the constant gay panic in this cutie and how she frets over her family, but this is different. Kara looks completely unnerved, horrified and panicking. Worried now, I stand up and reach for her again.

"Kara, I--"

"Ihavetogo," she stammers and grabs her phone and purse before taking off at a dead run, leaving me baffled and alarmed. Okay, sure, Joey's woes aren't exactly casual conversation, but still…

Lunch doesn't seem appealing at all now, our half-eaten plates looking as forlorn as I feel. Covering both meals takes a painful bite out of my budget, but I can brown bag it tomorrow. I have a feeling Kara won't be back anytime soon anyway.

Moping and puzzled, I still have a job to do and schlep my ass back to the office. Personal dramas or not, I have bills to pay and a dog to feed. I must look really miserable and unapproachable because it's a good hour before Gloria accosts me.

"Things not go so well with your cute crush, Honey?"

The gentle inquiry is remarkably lacking in teasing and she looks sympathetic when I look over my shoulder. I've always liked Gloria and she's as neutral an ear as I'm gonna get right now. Sighing dramatically doesn't make me feel better, which is a shame, and I flop back into my chair to stare over the back of it at her.

"I have no idea what happened, G. We were talking and then she looked like I'd shot her dog and raced off. I'm very glad to have discovered that girls are way more awesome than boys, but the drama levels haven't really backed down as much as I'd have liked."

Scoffing with amusement, Gloria comes into the mess to lean her hip on the edge of my neck and saves me from a neck cramp. "Well good to know being hopelessly heterosexual hasn't saved me from any drama. Are you going to call her?"

From teasing to gentle, Gloria goes right to the heart of it and I writhe in my chair, grumbling at the universe in general. Deflating from my little temper tantrum, I glower sourly at her unrepentant smirk. "Yes, dammit. I promise to call her and see if I can suss out what the hell happened. I like her, G! She's cute and weird and fun! I don't want to lose her."

"Good. In the meantime, Fry is cutting us all loose early before that storm hits. The roads are gonna get ugly as soon as that rain hits."

Sure enough, the warm sunlight is getting pushed away before the advancing menace of leaden clouds. Perfect ending to a crappy afternoon. Scrambling to shut down my computer and grab my shit, I make the time to hug Gloria. "Thank you for the ear. I owe you the next time some douchebag gets under your skin."

"Thanks for the vote of confidence," she snarks with a laugh and we both get caught up in the rush to get out and beat the storm.

Well, I half succeed in my task, getting to the underground train station even as thunder rumbles at my back. A relief for now, but I'm in for a long, soggy walk at the other end. By the crowd of miserable faces around me, I'm not the only one.

Above ground, the sky has gone twilight and opened up like a shower head. There's even lightning, which I don't flinch at, but the locals are in terrified awe of. Californians…

Then my Long Beach stop arrives and it's time to move off with the herd and just brave the rain. With a deep breath and clutching my bag to me to protect as best I can, I step out into the chaos.

Welp, my bag, clothes and possibly my supposedly waterproof phone are toast.

Sigh. This is what I get for letting myself get spoiled by a mild climate. Shame too, because I have a lovely, sturdy umbrella bit enough for two… in my closet at home.

Still, there's a certain enjoyment in seeing my familiar neighborhood transformed by the rain. Everything is softer around the edges, colors and shades muted by the sheeting wet and the flash of lighting over the ocean. Eyeing the towering pines in the park I'm walking through, I pick up my pace. I do not want to get caught out here!

The edge of the park is marked by a cross street, the movement of cars and headlights a beacon as the storm actually increases, ticking towards the red zone marked 'violent'. It's like standing under an industrial shower, the rain not particularly cold, but that stiff breeze is chilling my skin. If I can get out of this in one piece, I'll accept the inevitable cold as the lesser of two evils.

A flutter of movement and something settling around my head and shoulders startles me, my head whipping around and sending raindrops flying. Whatever I might have expected… this is not it. Settling to the pavement at my side… is Supergirl. Her hands retreat where she had been draping some red sheet around me, instantly blocking the pouring rain. I'm shocked silent and still, not at all my usual MO, and merely blink at the woman. She looks miserable, and certainly just as waterlogged as the rest of National City.

I've never been close to the mysterious Kryptonian who has marked this city so completely. She's strikingly… normal looking, as human as me and the people driving by. If not for the fancy cheerleading uniform and the fact that she dropped lightly out of the sky, she could vanish into a crowd. Wild.

"You look like you needed some help," Supergirl says barely loud enough to be heard over the wind and the storm seems caught in her blue eyes. Before I can untangle my startled synapses and react, she lifts away in utter defiance of gravity and zooms down the street, below the level of the buildings.

And I am left, baffled, in the rain with no sign of the encounter except for the strange red sheet draped around me.

It's still a couple thousand feet to my building so I have a little time to brood and internally flail. I just had a random run in with Supergirl! Holy crap! She was beautiful and so sad and what the hell had drawn her to me of all people? Feet from the stoop of my old apartment building, I stop dead in my tracks and eye the red sheet as though it was made of snakes.

It's not a sheet. It's a cape.

It's the cape.

I wouldn't believe it if I hadn't witnessed with my own eyes, Supergirl flying away with a distinct lack of the bright red that normally flows from her shoulders.

Somehow I force myself to climb the steps and open the door to finally get out of the rain. When I tug the cape loose from where it's been sheltering me, my half-numb fingers register that's the fabric is baby-soft with a strange silky texture that is somehow sorta oily? Rubbery? But not unpleasantly so. It's also heavy, far heavier than the texture and thickness would suggest. Somehow, it seems appropriate, coming from an alien.

Fatigued and discombobulated by the whole afternoon, I drag my weary ass up three flights of stairs and down the hall to my little apartment. In truth, I love the stupid matchbox and this whole neat building. It used to be a hotel in the twenties, and somehow survived the Long Beach earthquake in that same era, unlike many of its neighbors. Funky details remain scattered all over, like arched ceilings and intricate mouldings buried under decades of paint. My unit used to be some sort of caretaker's quarters and storage, because the place is lined in shelves and cubbies. Handy for a tenant with a large dog who needs as much floor space as she can get.

I can hear Peggy dancing and whining softly as I fumble at the lock and her eager face is a joy. "There's my good girl," I coo at her and laugh as she stops her tap dancing and tail wagging to stare incredulously at me. Considering my current state, I can't blame her.

Dropping everything into a pile and getting the door closed and locked takes a lot of my scattered brain power, the rest of it gone in the awkward shuffle towards the bathroom as I strip off sodden layers and just drop them wherever. Warmth and dryness before I attempt anything else, including thinking. After the chilly downpour, a good, hot shower is bliss. 

Much reinvigorated, I finish up and climb into warm flannel jammies, soft with age. Rhythmic pawing and excited doggy noises tell me I better go see what shenanigans my roomie is up to.

Like any scent hound, Peggy gets into everything that smells interesting. It's an ongoing game of trying to outwit one another. My candy stash, especially the chocolate, goes on a high shelf I need a stepladder to access, and I only get a few pieces at a time and carefully toss the wrappers. I love the after holiday sales where I can stock up the individual serving sizes. Either that, or it hides in my narrow fridge. That has a fairly complicated latch on it, because damn my doggo is a smart one! The trash is the hardest puzzle. Eventually, I persuaded the landlord to let me remove a cabinet door so that I could use the existing screw holes to literally screw a heavy plywood box right into the wall. Under a heavy lid and another fancy latch leaves my trash can.

Thankfully, Peggy's not a chewer and the rounded edges of all the corners in this building don't give her much to work with when she's in a mood. If she has to be an asshole, at least she only demolishes my couple of cheap chairs and I can replace those at Good Will. The bed is a Murphy I built myself and keeps my pillows and blankets safe and clean.

My things are safe this night, because Peggy is utterly fascinated with… the cape. She's dragged it to the middle of the room and is digging wildly at it before grabbing a fold in her teeth and shaking it, dancing about on happy paws. It's rare I see her so puppyishly happy and as the fabric seems immune, I keep my fingers it's as tough at its owner and pet Peggy play with the thing. With a mouthful of supercape, she whines and leans into my hug, headbutting me affectionately.

"Try not to kill that too much, huh?"

After making a cup of coffee and mopping up the swamp I dragged in with me and setting my things out to dry, I finally flop down in my beloved old Laz-e-boy recliner. As expected, Peggy drags over her new friend and climbs up to sprawl all over me.

"Are you going to introduce me to the new love of your life, you hussy?"

There are times I swear this too-smart dog actually understands me. Giving me a wry look, she explodes into puppyish energy, writhing onto her back to kick at the air and slobbering all over my laughing face. I'm not at all good at living alone and she makes it not just bearable, but so often a joy. Completely pleased with herself, Peggy settles into using me as her personal dog bed and I can get a better look at the cape we're both fascinated with.

It's tightly woven; or maybe extruded somehow? But it very much has the texture of cloth and is the softest thing I've ever touched. Like a kitten belly. The few stubborn water drops clinging are beaded up on the surface with no indication of soaking in at all. 

I'm holding Supergirl's freakin' cape in my hands. I've dealt with some pretty famous clientele working for Miriam Fry and her exclusive clientele, but somehow this is the thing that rattles me.

But… why?

Supergirl has no idea who I am, had no reason to just drop in and leave me… this. It was just a rainstorm for fuck sake! I can feel Peggy watching me as I ponder this mystery, the slow beat of her tail on my leg a comforting anchor of sensation. Something about this whole weird day is just at the edge of my perception, tantalizing me. I like a good mystery, better, I like solving a good mystery, and this has my curiosity eager as Peggy to get in that damn trash. Unraveling weird motivations and understanding intent was a necessary skill for the second youngest kid of eight and stays sharp with my fancy-pants customer service job.

Still, skills or no skills, I can't suss this out. I do know one thing though; I have no damn idea how to return it to the superhero. But… I do know someone who would. Two someones in fact.

One useful extra of my work is that I seem to able to network with anyone in this damn city, despite being sorta new here. I pride myself in being charming and observant and that facilitates my work and connections. Alex and Lena both have a connection to Supergirl. It doesn't take much to piece that together from listening to them talk, no matter how much effort they put into editing themselves. 

Only one thing left to do then! It's a Wednesday anyway, so getting ready early is no big. Pulling up my Lyft app, I go through the routine of picking a nearby driver and negotiating destination and payment. That done, I grin at Peggy.

"Wanna go for a ride, girl?"

Like most dogs, Peggy is thrilled at the offer of a car ride and is clambering off me to dance about in excitement. In a few minutes flat, I'm snug in boots and a coat that will shrug any rain off, and Peggy's travel bag in hand. She travels around to friends often enough that I have what she needs always ready to go in her own bag. At the last second, I check in the little closet by the door and sure enough, there's my big umbrella. Some intuition tells me the trouble of lugging the big thing around will be worth the hassle. 

The lyft car is waiting as we exit and I quickly match up license plate and driver before climbing and settling in.

"Traffic's gonna be nuts," the andro hipster says in a bored tone and yeah, that's not going to be fun, but whatever.

"I'm early. We're good."

It's barely 3:30, so if I'm lucky, the driver will only catch the front end of the chaos that is morning and evening on the roads of any major city. I settle into a comfy slouch and Peggy props her head on my chest to stare out the window. I goof off on my phone and rub Peggy's ears and eventually tap over to the text messenger. In a file marked 'Hudson' is the collection of fascinating people I met in that old building. Near the top is the contact I want, and I tap 'BigD' to start typing.

_What up for game night?_

The driver makes good time and we're on the freeway before my phone hums. Alex has texted back, _Kara cancelled. Said she wasn't feeling it_

"I bet," I mutter and sigh heavily, resting the phone on my belly for a moment to think. The devastation that crushed her was real. I might not understand it, but it was real. A body only has to spend about ten minutes with Kara to know that she doesn't hide her feelings well.

_Damn. I'm already on my way_

_You're early. Got Peggy? Swing by the fort and have dinner. Bug will be thrilled_

_Sure!_

That settled, I chill with my dog and wait for the miles to roll away.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Whew! It took some doing to get the end of this just right, but I like how it came out! 
> 
> The prompt fill is from Panyan for 'first kiss'

Astonishing, the driver makes halfway decent time and the condo fortress of the Luthor-Danvers trio looms large. Sitting up and grabbing my stuff, I make sure Peggy's leash is secured before speaking to our driver. "Just drop me off wherever."

"You sure?"

I appreciate his skepticism, but security in this place is no joke.

"Believe me, in this shit, I'd love door to door service, but they won't let you in. Drive safe, dude!"

The car doesn't even come to a full stop and we're out, trotting down the sidewalk to the pedestrian door that will take us to the security goons. Luckily, I've been here before and getting in only takes a few minutes. After being cooped up in the car for so long, I'm more than happy to let Peggy nose around the fancy jungle courtyard and find a patch of grass to do her business while we're outside. Then it's off to the elevators where I can run a towel over Peggy's fur and then to Lena's front door. Tilly throws open the door and beams with delight at immediately being accosted by her dog pal. Well, Peggy will certainly be in good hands, regardless of how my own afternoon goes.

"Hey, Ange," Alex greets me cheerfully as she exits the kitchen and heads over to the front door. "What a mess out there, huh?"

This the Alex I know, the big softie for her girls who looks amazing in tanktops and flannel with her messy hair and killer smile. And suddenly she doesn't fit right in my perceptions quite right and it's a very disjointing sensation. There's a lot of disjointed clues rattling around my head now and I can't quite make them fit.

Something like dread whispers around the edge of my mind as I reach into my bag to yank at the mysterious red fabric.

"So, um, you know Supergirl, right? I have no idea how to return this."

Once, when I was about eight, my idiot brother made me mad enough to break the rules and deviate from the path between school and our Brooklyn family apartment. I was lost so fast real fear had me riding the adrenaline-soaked edge of panic. It got dark fast in fall and soon it was just me and the harsh streetlamps in narrow canyons of brick and concrete. I broke when a wall of darkness beyond a chainlink fence became a snarling mass of barking and teeth and terror.

That's sort of what Alex's eyes look like in this moment. 

This is not the fun-loving, sweet goofball the Hudson Clan adores, this is something lean, mean and frankly terrifying. Whatever I've stumbled into feels very real, and very dangerous, focused around the red cape clenched in my white-knuckled hand. 

Things start to click into place, like one domino falling into the next to create patterns and shapes with their motion. 

Thor. The irony of the nickname brings up a strangled noise that might have been a laugh in less stressful circumstances. A very attractive alien with super-strength, royalty from a technologically superior world, with flowing blonde locks and dramatically wears a red cape.

I hadn't met Supergirl before the bizarre incident in the park this afternoon. Like anyone, she looks different in person, when the living personality shines through. I've had the experience dozens of times over working for Miriam, meeting famous actors and sports figures and people of power. What is on the screen is so much different than a living, breathing person.

Today, I looked Supergirl in the face… and I know her.

Alex rakes a hard hand through her shaggy bob and makes an aggrieved noise so doglike that Peggy cocks her head. It's that visceral reaction, that gut response to the cape in my hands, that really solidifies that I'm right.

That reaction is personal. Deeply personal. And all I can see is miserable blue eyes I know well.

Everything must be written all over my face because Alex's expressive eyes are wide and alarmed and scared. All those terrifying battles shown in the news, splashed over the papers and websites all over the world. Caving in the shop around Joey…

Kara was in the middle of all of that danger. 

Bet Special Agent Big Sister was too.

All those times Supergirl has saved Lena Luthor. Who has walked over, radiating concern that dawns to silent understanding. She's the one that simply reaches out and lays a hand over mine, my deathgrip on the cape easing in response.

"Call it best friend intuition, but I bet she's up on the Hudson's roof." The words are so very gentle, the emotions vulnerable and not threatening, which actually hits harder. "Be careful, and be gentle, Angie. To her and to yourself. It's a shock, but you are a good person and can handle it. Do you need a car to borrow?"

Before I can even speak, it's Tilly that has the answer in the form of a skateboard and helmet she holds out for me to take. My little smiling sob of a laugh is utterly genuine and I stroke her wiry hair.

"Thanks, Tilly. This is perfect."

I have a very nice umbrella; handmade in England for longevity and a gift at my junior high school graduation. It's seen some shit, from blizzard-strong winds to cracking the school bully hard enough to drop him. Now it shelters me from the storm slowly blowing itself out over National City. 

It's only about a mile and a half between the fort and the Hudson, the roads a choked mess I warily move through, knowing what drivers are like. With only a few moments of terror, I make it to the old Hudson car factory building where it all began.

Now to find out if I'm as brave as I like to think I am.

The security system here knows me too, and I walk right in, past the door I know Maggie and pack are behind, and then to the elevator. To my pleasant surprise, the control panel has changed, now reading 1,2, 3, 4, P. Good to know all the frenetic work on the roof has paid off. The penthouse stinks of fresh concrete and building materials, random crap piled against the walls even in this small space. Peering out of the doorway reveals a short hallway that quickly bends away out of sight and double doors leading to an outdoor courtyard. There are voices raised nearby and a take a deep breath and rush out before I'm caught and tossed out of the worksite. 

It's a spacious courtyard with a sturdy metal staircase close by that I follow upward. I'm glad the bulk of the storm has passed, but the raw, exposed roof cluttered with supplies makes me nervous. Getting hit by lightning is not on my bucket list, thanks. But not twenty feet away is the huddled figure… of Supergirl. 

She's turning to spot me even as I step out fully onto the roof, comforted by the over-tall fence posts along the perimeter of the huge space that are far more likely to attract lightning than I am. Still, I scrunch the umbrella low on my head, the spokes pressing into my scalp.

Blue eyes are wide as I pad over to brace myself against her shoulder and sit on the low wall beside her. The thirty-some foot drop under my feet is a little nerve-wracking, but I suppose I'm in the best company in the world for heights. The deep well of open space is behind the building's outside wall and I realize with some surprise that the floor far below is the space where Kara's dining table used to sit. Perversely, I hope her loft hasn't flooded and shake off the wandering thought.

The warehouse store-sized pack of Chocos clenched in Kara's hands hardly surprises me, most of it eaten, and the rest a mushy mess of cookie and rain. She jumps when I touch her hand, run my fingertips over the thumbhole that keeps her sleeves in place. There's nothing unusual in the feel of her, the vulnerable tremble in her hands, the warmth and softness of her skin.

"Why me?" I whisper and can't look her in the eye. For a long moment Kara doesn't move, then the hand I've been caressing softens, turns over, the fingers held together, palm relaxed and open. There is no room to insert my fingers between hers, but I suppose I'm too nervous yet to do that anyway. I do lay my hand softly over hers, our warmth bleeding together.

Clearing her throat roughly, Kara scrubs her other hand over her wet face and I can't resist watching the movement, knowing that the pooled moisture in those bright eyes isn't rain.

"I like you," she whispers back just as quietly. "I've liked you since I met you. But I worry for you."

With five brothers and one butch sister that made Alex look like Glinda, I read a lot of comicbooks and saw a lot of superhero movies and TV. Secret identities in themselves made sense when not treated stupidly, protecting the hero and their loved ones. Being in the middle of the action was far different than colorful images on screen or in print. 

I can't help but wonder if any of this will ever completely feel real.

"Yeah, I think I'm worried a bit for me too. But I bet we can figure it out."

The absurdity of this whole day suddenly overwhelms my ability to adapt, if only for a moment.

"God, you're Supergirl," I breathe out and there's an edge of real stress to my tense little laugh. "That's, uh… wild."

There's no mistaking the tension in her and I fight down the borderline hysteria that has no place in this delicate moment. Dig deep, Angie. You can do it.

"What I said about Joey? It was never blame… Kara."

It feels weird to use her name and her hand twitches under mine.

"I don't blame cars for takin' my Paps Giovanni, I blame the drink that would have killed him one way or another. Blaming you for a fight someone nasty brought to your doorstep would be stupid." I can't help myself and give her a mock squinty stare. "You don't think I'm stupid, now do you?"

And there it is, the faintest trace of a smile around her mouth, relaxing the tension around her eyes. A little shake of her head loosens some of the sodden blonde hair from her shoulders and I reach out to run my hand over the locks.

"I've never seen your hair down." Oops, I hadn't meant to have my voice go all Jessica Rabbit. Guess maybe I have a little fetish after all. Naw, I just really like this charming, weird girl. Clearing my throat, I take my hand back to poke her gently between the brows. "I can't believe that worked for so long."

She honest-to-cannoli blushes at my teasing and as always since meeting her, I'm charmed. With a little laugh, Kara looks away, and then back, the very embodiment of sweetly shy. "Yeah, well we didn't exactly meet like this."

A deep breath straights up Kara's slouch, the motion calling attention to the stylized 'S' on her chest and I can't remember the snippets of gossip about it that popular culture know about her and Superman. She blows out the breath and reaches out to trace the shape of my hand with tender fingertips.

"I've hid for so long. So, so long. Then the plane was on fire, and I'd never been so afraid in my life, because Alex was on board and I could barely even remember how to fly after so long and I almost didn't get there on time…"

She swallows hard, choking on emotion and pulls her hands away to fist and relax, fist and relax, soft and yet strong enough to tear a skyscraper right off the earth.

Huffing a wet laugh, Kara scrubs at her eyes and her expression is soft and adoring. "Alex was so mad at me, but it felt so, so good to help, to save her and everyone else. Then the bounty hunter that had been after her came back for more, and… and I couldn't just walk away."

I take a moment to really absorb her words before speaking.

"You're more complicated than I gave you credit for, Kara. You're who I've been getting to know since Christmas, and you're this," a gesture down her body adds to my observation. "And you're whoever you were before you came here, to Earth."

There, I said it. This cutie who I've been flirting with for months is an alien. I'm relieved and proud of myself that the realization doesn't bother me outside of the shock value of the whole strange situation. It also perks her up, that smile finally coming back to her sweet face. It seems the perfect moment to pull out the cape and hand it over.

"I almost didn't get this back from Peggy. The look on her face when I took it back was a full-force puppy pout."

"I can share," is the earnest reply and I almost melt.

"Charmer. It's nice to have something she can't destroy."

"It's nice that Peggy likes me. Sometimes, animals are afraid of me and I'm always worried about causing harm."

I haven't really come to the point of wondering what life she must lead, hiding her extraordinary superpowers. It would explain some of her behaviors and awkwardness. And I remember Alex mentioning at one point that she and Kara didn't meet until they were in their early teens/tweenies. So Kara was adapting to faking at being Human right at that cusp of adolescence. That explains a whole lot more about her.

Snuggling into her shoulder focuses Kara and I get to enjoy the firmness of her muscled arm.

"For the record, Kara, I don't mind your Pleasantville style. It's kinda nice, honestly, to be slowly wooed and fawned over, instead of ogled and pawed at. So thank you for that. But maybe I kiss you? Or at least let me know if you might be comfortable with that."

"I love that movie," she says shyly and my grin is wide enough to almost hurt. "Would you like to go out sometime? With just plain Kara?"

"Yes. I like just plain Kara, I always have."

Something intent changes those eyes and she leans in. "Can I? You know, kiss you?"

"Yes."

It's a soft kiss, warm in the rain and wind, and as gentle and sweet as I expected with a hint of heat I'd only hoped for.

"Worth waiting for," I compliment Kara and soak up my own delight in her blush. Of course, I can't resist teasing her a bit. "Suddenly, your appetite makes so much sense. You've been holding out on me."

"I was in disguise!"

My laugh is from deep in the belly. "And you're forgiven! But, as a proper Italian, now I want to see you in a real food coma. I like a challenge."

Her chuckle and eager second kiss echo our new start.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> From IMs:  
> [8:42:55 PM] Shatterpath: why do I want to perversely do this with SG and the cape? Muses, HONESTLY. then again, Angie can be as Extra as Lena... If only because Angie would be so BAFFLED at the attention  
> [8:44:22 PM] Tadhgan31: There's no way Angie wouldn't catch on following that. Like probably after the fact. When she's replaying the encounter. And just an omg Thor!


End file.
